


The Witch Between the Mirrors

by Lichinamo



Category: Original Work
Genre: (not actually spooky), Gen, Spooky, Witches, ambiguous ethnicity, except the cat, happy halloween kids, mentioned miscarriage, no one has any names, theres magic and shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 17:23:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lichinamo/pseuds/Lichinamo
Summary: If you need something, they said, something to keep you safe, wait until it storms and go to a mirror.There is a witch who will help you.And if she can’t?Well, she will find someone who will.





	The Witch Between the Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> This work will most likely have multiple unconnected chapters. Think of it as a series of short stories about these witches. I will not have a regular posting pattern as I am a full time college student and have other things to do. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.

The man in the black coat looked out the window when he heard the thunder crackling outside. The rain was pouring heavily down, so hard that it was leaking into the room.

The man nodded to himself before turning back to the mirror and pressed his hand against it. Nothing happened for a moment. Then, there was a pulse of magic, and then he was able to step through.

The room he came in to was small and musty, filled top to bottom with overflowing jars and colorful bottles and cracked pewter cauldrons. The floor creaked as he stepped past the shelves, and a bottle teetered forward before being pulled backwards by an unseen force.

He stopped at the counter, made of the same wood as the rest of the store, and put his hand down, his nose twitching at the dust.

The blonde clerk didn’t even look from her tome. “We’re closed.”

“It’s raining.”

“A drizzle doesn’t count.”

“It’s storming.”

She looked up at that, revealing deep purple eyes, before looking to the corner of the counter, where there sat a black cat. “Ainsel?”

The cat, Ainsel, who had been licking his paw, flicked his tail once.

The clerk closed the book, causing dust to go up in a cloud everywhere, and straightened up. “Right-o, look’s like we’re back in business. What can I getcha today?”

The man inclined his head. “I need to see the witch.”

The clerk came from around the counter, revealing a robe that looked like it had been spun from cobwebs. “I am the witch. What are you in the market for? An invisibility potion? Something to cover your scent? A temporary transformation draught? I can do permanent, but I don’t have anything pre-made for that, so it will take me an entire moon cycle to brew it, and you’d have to provide me the crow’s beaks and toad blood.”

“I have no need for concealment, what I need is more important than smoke and mirrors.”

The witch inclined her head in challenge. “Disguise is a noble art, but if you don’t want to hide who you are, you’ve come to the wrong place. I only sell potions to keep people shielded from the world, or the ingredients to go along with it. If your situation is that dire, I can give you a recommendation.”

At the man in the black coat’s nod, the witch made her way over to the long, ancient mirror on the far wall. She stuck her finger into it and ran it from the top of her reflection to the bottom of where her arm could reach without stretching.

As she pulled her arm back, the mirror ripples like water, and a tan woman with long dark hair wrapped into a braid and dressed in a dark silk robe and street clothes stepped out. “What do you want? I’m making cookies.”

“Apparently my wares aren’t good enough for my customer, so I was hoping you would give him some assistance?” The blonde witch said with some snark in her voice, gesturing to the man, some silver sparks flickering from her hands.

The other witch took in the man, looking him over. “And what is it that you desire?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

The man swallowed. “My wife is sick. She just lost our baby and the doctors said if she doesn’t stop bleeding, she could die.”

The dark haired witch nodded once before snapping her fingers and flicking her wrist. After a moment, the mirror rippled again, and a third witch stepped out of the mirror. She was somewhere in between light mystery of the first witch and the dark casualness of the second, and that reflected in her skin, being tanner than the first but not more than the other. She wore a gown that looked to be made of gold that reached to her knees, and she held in her hands a phial filled with a shimmering blue potion.

The yellow clad witch flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. “You need to start carrying things other than disguising potions.” She turned to address the man, and handed him the phial. “This will cure your wife of all her ills.”

“I. . . Thank you. Tell me, how much does it cost?” The man reached into his pocket.

The witch with the braid spun her hair with her finger. “It’s on the house. We wouldn’t wish this kind of suffering on anyone.”

The man was stunned almost speechless. “Thank you so much. This means more than you know.”

The blonde witch nodded quickly. “Yes, it means a lot, we understand, Ainsel will show you the way back home, now about those cookies. . .” She then turned her attention completely away from him.

The man held the phial like the treasure it was, and followed the black cat that had leapt from the counter as it led him through the mirror he had come from just ten minutes before.


End file.
